We were enjoying an afternoon walk in our local Audubon wildlife sanctuary: Mr. P, Little Boy, and myself. We were chasing each other up and down the trails with sweaty abandon; we were “birding” with binoculars; we were counting the turtles we saw lounging on fallen tree limbs in a pond; we were talking about shadows.
“Look, Mama! This leaf has shadow!” Little Boy observed, holding a decaying leaf above his head and pointing at the holey shadow it threw on the ground.
“Yes, it does!”
“This tree has a shadow!” he added, pointing to the long shady line cast by a willowy maple.
“Yes, it does! Honey, everything has a shadow. See? The shadows are made by the sun.” I motioned towards the glaring sun bearing down on us with a touch of unseasonable humidity.
This is not the first time he’s heard about shadows, but for some reason, he was fixated. “That plant have shadow,” he said, pointing at a clump of young ferns.
“Yes, because everything has a shadow!” I said, not really exasperated, but trying to head off exasperation.
Little Boy paused for a second. “Does sun have shadow?” he asked.
D’oh!
- Goose Watching
"Look!"
